


I stopped believing in happy endings

by otatop



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Deliciously cliche, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, carnivals, cheesey, popular!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-01-13 11:44:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1225063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otatop/pseuds/otatop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek was prepared to have his heart broken for just one evening with Stiles. He knew what he was getting himself into</p><p>(He had no idea what he was getting himself into)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Interlude to a larger piece I'm writing to give myself a bit of a morale boost! The second half was a bit rushed so I'm sorry if you can tell :x

_I'm not that kind_  
I'm so good at shooting down any notion  
This tired world could change

-Stray Italian Greyhound, Vienna Teng

_“Go out with me_?” It had been a demand inflected like a question and if it had been anyone else, Derek would have torn them down a peg for it. But this was Stiles, arms braced on Derek’s desk and towering over him with a huge confident smile. Stiles, one of those popular kids who held his status just because of the energy he exuded. He wasn’t good at sports, he was smart but scatter-brained, he was clumsy and loud and sarcastic and kind of mean but he had a way about him that left you feeling grateful and smug when he talked to you. Derek had been crushing on him for a while, now. Quietly, of course, from afar.

But Stiles was popular and Derek was weird. His first logical thought (after his heart skipped a beat) was that it had to be a prank. That’s what happened in movies, wasn’t it? Except Derek didn’t leave anything to the imagination; there wasn’t anything to be done as far as a full body makeover to transform him into some hot protagonist at the end. His clothes were fine, his hair was fine, he _looked_ fine. It was just easier to be the weird, broody guy hiding behind a wall of snark than to let people in. That hadn’t gone so well last time. But this was _Stiles_ and maybe a fake date would be better than no date at all. At least he knew what he was getting himself into.

As Derek paused to weigh his options (time with Stiles versus minor humiliation) the lacrosse players eyes dimmed. Sure, his smile was still plastered on and he was still leaning heavily on Derek’s desk, but his eyes had flicked down and softened around the edges and Derek knew far too well what it was like to keep up a façade.

It had never really been an option. He nodded and said, “Ok.” Stiles’ face slackened for a second before a surprised smile flashed brightly down at Derek who filled with butterflies and jitters, like he’d drunk too much coffee.

“Really? Like, _really_ really?” He was so shocked that Derek almost fell for it.

“Did you ask thinking I’d say no?”

Stiles straightened and gestured a little with one hand, the other coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “Well, I mean, you’re _Derek Hale_ ; you don’t date anybody.”

Derek let out a humorless little laugh at that. “Did you _want_ me to say no? You can try again; I’ll get it right this time.” Maybe that had been it, a bet to ask out _Derek Hale_. It wouldn’t be a big deal to do if everyone assumed he’d say no. Stiles karate chopped the air with a distressed sound.

“ _No,_ ” his voice cracked and then he cleared it. “I mean, no. I wanted you to say yes- want you to. I want you- _this_. I want this. You, to say yes. Yes. That’s what I wanted I just didn’t think you actually _would_ because like, really? You’re-” he gestured down to Derek’s plain blue v-neck, “and I’m just-” he made a face down at himself and tugged at his plaid shirt. Derek let himself give a small smile at that, because that’s exactly how he would react if their roles had been switched. It wouldn’t be so bad to have this, whatever the outcome. Even just one date.

“Well, I said yes. What are you gonna do about it?”

The smirk that ticked up half of Stiles’ mouth was conceited but it did nothing to hide the color rising in his cheeks. “I’m gonna woo you, Hale. Gonna woo the pants right off ya.” Derek raised an eyebrow and Stiles’ blush darkened. “That’s not what I meant! I meant- no, you know what? I’m gonna stop while I’m head. _Ahead_. Oh my god.” Stiles turned on his heel and started marching to the door. Right before he left, he called out, “I’m picking you up at six this Friday!” and Derek let him leave with the illusion of dignity.

Other students started filing in not long after that, no one really paying any mind to Derek. It didn’t bother him on a normal day but today especially, he was sure nothing could get him down. Stiles’ best friend Scott was in the class with him, sitting up by the front with Allison, and didn’t send any knowing looks his way but he was whispering excitedly to his girlfriend who returned his smile and twitched her head toward the back of the room with a comment Derek couldn’t hear. He could only assume it was about him and didn’t blame Stiles for telling his friend so quickly, but hoped it had been a proclamation of honest excitement and not victory.

Class itself was a blur or half-hearted notes and daydreaming and soon enough, the final bell was ringing and Derek was bolting out the door to the student parking lot. Laura was already waiting by the Camaro, leaning heavily on the passenger side with a shit eating grin. Derek walked right up to her and slung an arm around her shoulders in a not-a-hug-but-I-kinda-want-to-hug-you.

“He asked me out,” he muttered into the side of her hair, smiling so hard his cheeks were starting to hurt. Laura punched playfully into his ribs.

“So _that’s_ why he asked me for your number last period. The guy wouldn’t budge on why. But if he asked you out, why did he need to get it from me?”

“He might have embarrassed himself and run away before he could.”

Laura’s laugh was raucous and infectious and had Derek joining in with his own subdued chuckle. He caught a glimpse of Stiles across the parking lot by his blue Jeep, surrounded by his boisterous friends but staring in Derek’s direction with a slack jawed expression. Derek’s smile only widened and he dipped his head to hide it.

“Oh my god, baby bro, you got it so _bad_ ,” Laura chided, having caught on to what he was really smiling at. Derek shoved her towards the car and walked around to the driver’s side.

“You’re only seven minutes older than me, Laur, stop calling me that.”

“Never!”

 

***~~***

 

Friday couldn’t come fast enough, yet when it arrived Derek panicked. _He needed more time_. He wasn’t ready for this. He’d liked Stiles since before Kate happened. He thought he was prepared for the night to end in disaster, prepared to face the humiliation with cool indifference when it was revealed that the date wasn’t real. He thought he was ok, but his imagination kept getting away from him. Like when you enter a raffle and you _know_ you’re not going to win so you try not to get your hopes up, but you can’t help but really you’re thinking _if I assume the worst, it’ll feel twice as amazing when I win_. He couldn’t afford that kind of hope. He just needed to take the night in stride, enjoy his evening and his short time with Stiles and take away the happy memories and forget the bad. That’s what Laura had said about Kate- try to remember the happy feelings; pretend it didn’t end in flames.

Laura found him throwing another shirt to the floor of his closet and cursing. She went immediately to the few shirts left on the hangers and picked out his long sleeved eggplant henley and thrust it into his chest. He put it on without question and went to start picking through his shoes until she threw his black sneakers at his head.

“I can dress myself,” he grumbled but sat down on his to start putting them on. Laura pushed his shoulder and sat cross-legged against his pillows.

“Of course you can. You would have picked that shirt eventually; I just saved you some time.”

“I have _plenty_ of time.”

The doorbell rang. Derek’s head shot up, a curse on his lips as he started franticly shuffling through the crap on his desk for his watch. Laura grabbed it from his nightstand and threw that at his head, too. Downstairs, he could hear his mom answering the door and Stiles’ muffled chatter. Derek shook out his limbs and grabbed his leather jacket from the back of his computer chair… which Laura promptly smacked from his hands.

“Not tonight, you’re not. No armor. You’ve liked Stiles for _years_ , Derek, and _he_ asked _you_ out. You don’t need to hide.”

Derek stared down at the black lump on the floor. His crutch. The thought of not bringing it made his stomach turn.

“You really think he actually likes me?” his words were quiet, maybe because he was nervous, maybe because Stiles was waiting in the foyer. Laura ducked to see his downturned face and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“He asked you out.” Derek shrugged as if to say _‘so’_ and Laura made a face at him. “No, you don’t think- Derek, you can’t keep thinking like that. I know what Kate did fucked you up a little but you can’t keep thinking that _everyone_ is like her. Stiles isn’t like her. He-”

“He doesn’t have any reason to like me. No one does. No one bothers to _talk_ to me, Laura, they just _look_. I haven’t even had a class with him since sophomore year except gym, how could he like me?”

“How can you like him?”

Derek paused. He hated when Laura used his logic against him, but she was right. He didn’t want her to be right ( _he wanted it so badly_ ). With one last scathing look her way, he kicked his leather jacket out of the way and stomped down the stairs. Stiles was waiting by the closed door, rocking from heel to toe with his hands shoved as far as they could go in the pockets of his letterman jacket and talking to Mrs. Hale. He paused in the middle of his sentence when he caught site of Derek and smiled. The upset Derek felt moments ago dissipated almost instantly.

“Have fun, you two,” Mrs. Hale said with a quiet smile as they left without any greetings. Stiles smiled politely and waved until the door was closed before he gave Derek a once over out of the corner of his eye. He coughed awkwardly and moved his hands around so that his jacket flapped around like bird wings.

“You look nice,” he said. Derek tugged at the hem of his shirt, wishing badly for his own jacket.

“Laura dressed me,” he admitted without shame; everyone loved Laura and she always wore the best things. Derek wasn’t so good at anything that wasn’t monochrome. Stiles laughed a little at his confession.

“Remind me to thank her, then.”

Derek blushed down to his toes.

The drive in the Jeep was long and bumpy and it wasn’t until they were halfway through the next town over that Derek realized he had no idea where they were going. He didn’t interrupt Stiles tangent about the latest trouble he had caused at the police station (he liked that there was no pressure to fill awkward silences around the slim boy) and told himself it would be nice to be surprised. It was an easy companionship, so much less uncomfortable than he’d feared it would be. Stiles filled most of the silence on his own but got Derek to join in without much teeth pulling. And Derek, loathe as he was to admit it, was already having an amazing time. It was just a _car ride_ for crying out loud.

When they pulled onto a beat up dirt road with a giant sign reading “CARNIVAL!” Derek knew he was in deep shit.

He fucking loved the carnival.

There were already dozens of cars in the lot and the colorful lights were just starting to create a glow with the darkening evening. Derek hadn’t been to the carnival in years but all of his happiest memories were from here- of him and Laura eating cotton candy and going on rides until they puked, of their dad winning Cora prizes, of his mom getting her face painted like Spiderman. He didn’t know why they stopped going, hadn’t spared much thought for the place, but watching the boat ride swing up into the air and hearing the delighted screams and shouts and bells and whistles and seeing the ferris wheel brought forth a whole chest-full of emotions he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Surprise! I hope this is, ah, ok.” Stiles had his hands stuffed back in his pockets as they walked toward the entrance and was moving them around and shrugging and wiggling like he didn’t know how to handle his nerves. Derek waited until he caught his eye before nodding with a small, private smile.

“I love the carnival,” he said a little shyly.

“I know,” Stiles blurted before he seized up. Derek barely had any time to realize what he’d said when Stiles started shoving him toward the entrance way. “Come on, hurry up! We don’t have all night for you to be meandering.”

Derek slowed his pace and started leaning back into Stiles’ hands until the other boy was squawking and trying to shoulder his weight and push him at the same time. “You know?”

“I know that we’re going to be _late_.”

“Late for a carnival?”

Stiles sputtered, caught in his own lie. “Move your butt!”

Laughing, Derek stood up straight again and started toward the ticket booth. Another surprise; Stiles pulled two tickets out of his wallet and presented them to the woman in the booth. He smiled shyly at Derek’s raised eyebrow and nudged him forward with an elbow.

The place was in full swing, the rides whirring and games being played and the air smelled like fried dough and sugar. Derek turned his head this way and that as they meandered around and gathered their bearings, unsure of what he wanted to do first or if Stiles had anything planned. He couldn’t care less if the skies opened up and it started pouring, literally nothing could rain on his parade in that moment. They walked around the circle of the grounds, not talking all that much save for the spare comment on a ride or game they wanted to play at some point. Derek caught site of the petting zoo and was lost in a memory when Stiles grabbed him by the elbow and started dragging him across the way.

“Oh my _god_ , I’m starving,” he lamented as they queued up. Derek leaned over to see that it was the line for food that was, surprisingly given where they were, _not_ sweet and thanked heavens because he hadn’t eaten under the assumption that they were going to a restaurant or something.

“I hope they still sell those giant turkey legs,” he commented, eyes on the menu board but he was leaning sideways slightly so he didn’t have to speak over the sound of the crowd. Stiles made a sound of a dying animal.

“They better! I haven’t been here with anyone but my dad in years and I always feel guilty eating those in front of him when he’s not allowed. I swear, I could eat like, three of them.”

“Where on earth would you put three of them? They’re the size of my head!” Derek bent away again to give Stiles’ body an appraising look, playing on his words and taking the moment to appreciate his lean physique. Stiles lifted up the front of t-shirt and poked at his stomach. He was laughing it off but Derek couldn’t tear his eyes away from the gentle muscle definition and dusting of hair that drew his attention downward.

“Don’t let the skinniness fool you, I could probably eat you under the table. Then again,” he dropped his shirt and prodded Derek’s bicep where his sleeve was stretched the tautest. Derek _didn’t_ flex, he didn’t. Maybe unconsciously. Color flamed Stiles cheeks as his fingers slid over the muscles, his hand curving in an attempt to wrap around his arm. With a gentle squeeze, he ripped his hand away and let out a nervous laugh. “Yea- you, _hah_ , uh yea, you need to feed those muscles somehow.” Derek dipped his head, fighting a smile at the subtle praise. It was a new feeling, accepting a compliment about his body. Had it been anyone else, Derek probably would have gotten too uncomfortable to continue, echoes of Kate’s voice ringing in his ears and telling him that’s all he was good for, that’s all anyone wanted him around for.

Stiles shoved his hands back into the pockets of his jacket and pushed downward until the cloth pulled taught over his shoulders. He took a step forward when the line moved up and Derek closed the space again, taking advantage of the noise of the crowd as an excuse to get close enough for their sides to brush and leaned toward Stiles’ ear again.

“You’re not skinny,” he said lowly, if only to watch the color on Stiles’ face burn red down to the collar of his shirt. The lacrosse player jumped forward to an empty window and ordered two turkey legs and a basket of curly fries, his voice cracking as he did so. Derek reached back for his wallet only to have Stiles swat his hands away.

“I asked _you_ out, it’s my treat this time.”

 _This time_. Derek rubbed the back of his hand at his nose to hide his smile.

They took their food over to the picnic tables by the small petting zoo. Instead of sitting across from him, Stiles swung himself over the bench right next to Derek so that they were both facing the animals, knees pressed together and elbows knocking as they took up their turkey legs. Derek didn’t have a single thought of pulling away.

“The last time I was here,” Derek started, “Cora was six and she climbed the fence of the camel enclosure and jumped on its back and tried to ride it to freedom.”

Stiles choked a little on his bite of food and swallowed it to give a loud laugh. “Oh my god that sounds like something I would do at that age. Probably did, actually. I would have gone for the llamas, though. How old is she now?”

“Twelve. And I’m not so sure she wouldn’t do it again.”

“When I was twelve Scott and I snuck into the aquarium and hid until after closing and tried to go swimming with the manatees. Dad was _so_ mad when he came to pick us up I started crying cause I thought he was going to put us in jail. I haven’t been back to the aquarium since.”

Derek bit back the words ‘ _maybe next time_ ,’ still unsure of where they stood and cautious of how the night would end. But then Stiles turned his blinding smile on him and excitedly proclaimed, “Let’s go next weekend! I hear they redid the entire jellyfish exhibit in the last few years and Scott said it’s nice and dark and great to—and I’m just going to stop myself right there _oh my god_.” He ducked his head down and covered his mouth with his hand for a moment before digging back in to the fries violently. Derek gave himself freedom to play with the image he’d painted. Yea, he would definitely be ok with that.

They moseyed around after dinner, finishing their lap around the grounds and deciding what to do first. It wasn’t Derek’s imagination that Stiles was walking closer now with how often their arms were brushing. He still kept his hands buried deep in his pockets, though, and Derek was finally starting to be glad that he’d left his own jacket at home because he’d be doing the exact same thing. And if he had his hands in his pockets, he wouldn’t be able to grab Stiles by the elbow and start leading him over toward the swinging boat ride. As he went to let go, Stiles snapped his arm in close to his body, pinning his hand and effectively keeping Derek from pulling away. Stiles didn’t acknowledge the action and so neither did Derek. He just bent his hand around the curve of Stiles’ elbow and slid it down until he could curl his fingers loosely around his wrist where it dipped into his pocket.

“This is my favorite ride but no one in my family likes it so I always had to go on alone. I don’t think I’ve ever been on it with anyone else before.”

“If you’re a screamer I can’t promise I won’t make fun of you forever for it,” Stiles shot back with a wicked grin. With Derek’s returning smirk at the slight, Stiles shifted his hand until Derek’s curled fingers cupped his palm instead of his wrist, then moved further until their hands were notched together in his pocket. The sharp edges of Stiles’ smile softened, his eyes darting down and then forward and his blush returning.

They waited in silence and Stiles paid their entrance with two tickets ripped off an entire sheet he’d had hidden in his pants pocket. Derek didn’t point out how prepared Stiles was, just pulled him by the hand to seats in the very back of one side of the boat where they would reach maximum height. Stiles was a jittery mess, bouncing and wiggling on the bench and knocking into Derek every few seconds until finally Derek hooked an arm around his waist and pulled them flush together.

“You aren’t nervous, are you Stilinski?” he teased. Stiles _pssshed_ and flapped his hand around in front of them. Someone in their row pulled the lap bar down.

“There are little kids on this ride! Nothing to be nervous about. But is this the spinny ride or the- _oh_ , oh, okay it’s the rocking one okay. Okay.” The giant boat pulled back gently and started picking up its rhythm.

“Okay?” Derek parroted. Stiles nodded vigorously but didn’t say anything again. He did, however, paw at Derek’s hand on his side until his hold was uncomfortably tight. In a matter of seconds, they were nearly vertical, the weightless feeling Derek loved so much exploding outward from his belly (but it was nothing compared to Stiles in his arms). He let out a loud laugh of surprise, having forgotten how amazing it was to feel like he was falling forward, and then backward, then forward.

Stiles, on the other hand, wasn’t having any of it. The moment they started their first backward descent, he was nearly trying to crawl right into Derek’s lap with a chant of _“shit, shit, shIT, SHIT, FUCK_!”

It was easily the happiest minute and a half of Derek’s life.

When the ride slowed to a stop and the bar released, Stiles stood on shaky legs and grabbed Derek’s hand tightly. It was like an affection-dam had been broken and it was nothing for Stiles to lean his weight on Derek’s shoulder and entwine their fingers. Derek hadn’t realized how starved he was for that kind of touch until that second. He let Stiles pull him along and sag against him and complain that he thought it was a spinny ride because he was totally ok with throwing up and needing to eat another turkey leg. Derek apologized with a doughboy piled with powdered sugar.

Mouth full, Stiles ripped off a piece and offered it for Derek to take saying, “I don’t know, man, I’m feeling a little scarred. I might need you to win me a stuffed animal or something.”

“No one’s ever accused you of being subtle, have they?” Derek snarked. Stiles gave him a grin all teeth and sugar. So, naturally, Derek led Stiles by the hand and zigzagged through the rides and booths until came upon the high striker. Stiles was nearly vibrating as he handed over a ticket to the game attendant who was smirking him condescendingly… until Derek was the one to step up and grab the mallet from the man’s fat hand. He had three attempts with one ticket and Derek tried not to laugh at how needless it was. Still, in an unusual fit of arrogance, he hefted the hammer over his shoulder and shot Stiles a look.

“You want the dinosaur?”

Stiles’ eyes bugged as he took in the sight of the giant green tyrannosaurus rex at the top of the prize display. He nodded eagerly. It was too much to make a show of it, though; Derek already felt out of place acting so cocky like the assholes he hated at school. So the hammer went up, and he brought it down as hard as he could. The bell rang and Stiles whooped at the top of his lungs and jumped on Derek’s back while they waited for the grumpy game attendant to get the stuffed dinosaur down.

“That was amazing! I mean, you _look_ strong, but looks can be deceiving, you know? But that! You won me a prize! No one’s ever won me a prize before!”

Derek craned his neck and snagged a bite of the fried dough waving about his face in Stiles’ hand. “Well, now you can cross it off your bucket list.”

“Dude, you don’t even _know_.” Stiles hopped off his back, handed him the last bit of doughboy, and accepted his prize. He had to adjust it and wrestle a little to get it stuffed under one arm so that he could grab Derek’s free hand again. They wandered a little more, talked a lot more, and all the while Stiles’ thumb rubbed a distracted patter on the side of Derek’s. It was nice, so nice that Derek had forgotten about any and all of his ill thoughts about pranks and lies and Kate. He was too lost in Stiles’ manic way of weaving them through the carnival grounds, his quick wit and snappy, judgmental remarks of the people around them, his harsh words burning in hot breath against Derek’s ear. Derek indulged himself, pointing out people acting silly or inappropriate and laughing when Stiles hid his snorts in his dinosaurs head. He almost convinced him to go on the boat ride again, but Stiles pulled him away, to the center of the grounds with a hurried, “No, no, it’s almost time! We’re going to be late!”

“What’s there to be late for?”

“Don’t ask questions, Derek,” Stiles chided. He pulled them into the queue for the Ferris wheel that had just started refilling its seats. The line moved faster this time and when they reached the front Derek was surprised to see Scott working as the attendant. Stiles, however, wasn’t the least bit shocked. Scott accepted their tickets with a bright smile and locked the bar across their bucket seat. If Derek didn’t know any better, he would say the double thumbs up from Scott had been aimed at _him_ just before the ride jerked backward.

“Well that’s not suspicious at all,” he deadpanned. Color rose on Stiles’ cheeks and he shifted in his seat.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Derek felt more and more apprehension as they jerked back and stopped for every new fair-goer, just a few feet at a time up and up and up. Was this it? Was this the moment he’d been dreading all week? The end of it all? It was too perfect that Scott was working there, too well timed. And he was stuck there, cornered and forced to put up with whatever was thrown his way. It didn’t matter how nice Stiles was or how perfect their date had been so far- Kate had been nice, too. She’d been nice for longer than an evening- long enough to convince him he loved her. ( _He’s not Kate, he’s not, he’s not, don’t be stupid, Derek_ )

He just wished it didn’t have to end so soon.

About three quarters of the way to the top, the ride stopped being loaded and started it’s slow, smooth circle. On the descent, Stiles reached over and clutched at the hand Derek had resting on his own thigh. He looked nervous, though not quite as bad as he had on the boat ride. He obviously didn’t like the kind of rides that dropped, so why bringing him on the Ferris wheel? Why insist? Why time it? What had to be done on a Ferris wheel that wouldn’t be just as humiliating on the ground? Was it so he couldn’t run? Was it so that more people could be witness? ( _He’s not Kate_.)

He didn’t squeeze Stiles’ hand back.

“Did you hear me? Derek? Hey, you ok?” Derek shook himself out of his mood and nodded but Stiles didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure? You got kind of… closed off for a second.”

“You don’t like rides that go up and down,” Derek said, headless of the non sequitur. Stiles tried to shrug it off. “And your best friend is working the Ferris wheel. And you didn’t want to be late.”

The other boy wiggled in his seat uncomfortably and pulled his hand back. “Yea? So?”

As if Scott could hear their conversation, the ride came to a screeching halt just as they crested the top of the wheel. Derek shot Stiles a look, eyes dark and he tried not to look hurt, he really did, because he was expecting this but… it was harder than he thought, facing this kind of let down, even if it wasn’t a surprise.

Scott’s voice rang up from below, amplified by a megaphone. “Hey guys! We’re having a few technical difficulties down on this end. Should be all settled in a couple minutes but for now just sit tight!”

This was it. Derek scoffed. “Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out?”

Stiles crossed his arms around his giant stuffed animal, face petulant. “I had hoped you wouldn’t.”

“You’re predictable.”

“You’re an ass.”

“And you’re any better for this?”

At that, Stiles sat straight, indignant. He gestured wildly around at the cloudy night sky before them. “How the hell does this make me an ass? Are you kidding me right now? Do you know how much planning I had to do to pull this off?”

“And what is _this_ anyway?” He wanted to get it over with. He wanted to be done with it so he could go home and block it out and pretend that one evening with Stiles was good enough. But Stiles… all he did was sit back and look, and that’s when Derek heard the first boom.

Red and purple filled the sky in a willow shape, followed quickly by loud sparkling white pompoms. Confusion and numbness smothered out the hurt and anger.

“Fireworks?”

“Yea, fireworks. Do you have something against them?” Stiles sounded hurt, and Derek couldn’t blame him. “It’s just fucking fireworks. It’s just a fucking Ferris wheel and a good best friend and an acquaintance that _just happened_ to acquire food poisoning so that said best friend could jump in and volunteer to take over said acquaintance’s job at the carnival. It’s just a fucking set up, ok? It’s just-”

“Stiles,” Derek interrupted. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the fireworks when Stiles was staring at him with such heat. He reached over and took Stiles’ hand back and couldn’t be more thankful that the gesture was accepted. “Watch the fireworks with me.”

The silence between them was long and uncomfortable for the first time all night, filled with the canon-like explosions of the fireworks and the distant rumble of thunder. Stiles held Derek’s hand tight enough to hurt, and maybe that was on purpose, but he didn’t care. That bubble of hope that he’d tried so hard to beat down was back and pushing against his chest. It was fireworks. Stiles had set him up for _fireworks_. It was… it was so _cliché_ and perfect and amazing and, fuck, what must Stiles think of him now? Did he think he was an asshole? Was he redeemable? Had he ruined the whole night? That wouldn’t do.

“Remember what you said about ‘wooing’ and ‘pants’?” He asked quietly between the booms of the fireworks. Stiles’ blue lit up face twitched as if he were fighting a smile. “And there was something about ‘head’ too, I’m pretty sure.”

“ _Ahead_ , you jackass,” Stiles bit back, but his control was breaking.

“I’m just saying… I’m feeling pretty wooed right now. And I’m sorry.”

Stiles finally looked over at him out of the corner of his eye, the grip on Derek’s hand softening a little. “You still owe me an ice cream for being an ass.”

“I can do that.”

“Peanut butter cup ice cream.”

“Okay.”

“On a waffle cone. With sprinkles.”

“Deal.”

The ride lurched into motion, Derek breathed a sigh of relief, and Stiles _meep_ ed at the unpleasant sensation it caused in their stomachs. They didn’t go around again, but they were the only ones to get off the ride and Derek had a sneaking suspicion it had to do with Scott’s inside knowledge of his best friend’s hatred of dropping rides. As they came down the cheap metal steps, Scott non-so-subtly whispered “ _Did you kiss him?”_

Stiles hit him in the face with his dinosaur.

Back by the petting zoo, Derek bought his second apology dessert for the evening. He held the stuffed animal so that Stiles could eat it and Derek could still hold his hand. He pulled them close together again as they walked and watched the flurry of carnival energy swirl around them.

“I’m sorry I was a bit of an ass,” he started. Stiles shrugged but he could tell it wasn’t forgotten as easily as it was forgiven.

“Hey, I got ice cream out of it… but… yea, that just came out of left field. What, did you think I was going to do something horrible to you up there?”

At Derek’s quiet, “yea,” Stiles shot him a look. “It’s not… it’s not because of _you_ , I’ve just had some fucked up things happen to me- it was a girl I dated sophomore year. She led me on in a pretty terrible way until I thought I loved her and it… it went pretty south and I’ve had some issues trusting anyone who’s shown any interest in me since then.” It was the most Derek had told anyone about Kate besides Laura and his therapist- not even his parents knew. He thought that the day he told someone about her the world would end or he’d collapse in on himself, but it felt like a weight lifting instead. And the wide eyed, ice cream covered look Stiles gave him urged him on. “It was after I started working out as a hobby-”

“You mean that summer you went through some weird Hollywood transformation between freshman and sophomore year?”

“It wasn’t on _purpose_ , I just found out that I _like_ it. Looking like this was just a consequence. And I met this college girl and…” he cleared his throat awkwardly, his face feeling hot under Stiles’ study. “It just wasn’t real and then some and she said some pretty terrible things and I never thought I’d date again, at least not for a long time.”

“Because you thought they would lead you on to some nefarious end,” Stiles finished for him. Derek shrugged.

“Yea.”

“But you said yes to me,” he pointed out. Derek shrugged again, feeling very all or nothing at that moment.

“I thought spending one evening with you would be worth it, no matter what happ-” his confession was cut off abruptly with a freezing press of chocolate covered lips. Stiles had dropped his cone in favor of grabbing at Derek’s purple shirt and reeling him in for the single messiest, sweetest kisses. He was frozen for a moment, shocked and a little confused and kind of grossed out but not enough to pull away. Stiles did that for him, keeping the kiss chaste and brief. He swallowed thickly, throat clicking and eyes wide as they flicked from Derek’s to his mouth.

“You’ve got ice cream on you,” he said smartly and wiped at Derek’s bottom lip distractedly. Derek raised an eyebrow at him.

“Wonder how that happened.”

It took a dazed moment of Stiles touching his face before realization dawned in his honey eyes. He swore loudly and darted off to grab a handful of napkins from the closest food vendor. Derek laughed at him as he wiped his face furiously and stomped back, both hands coming back up to grab Derek by the ears and reel him in for a second kiss. When he pulled away, he steeled himself and looked Derek straight in the eye.

“Confession time, yea? Okay. Hoooo… I knew you’d say yes when I asked you out and I knew you loved the carnival. That’s how I had so much time for my cunning plan.”

“Oh?” Derek prompted indulgently, both amused and confused. Stiles still had a grip on him around the neck and nodded seriously.

“I had Calc with Laura the period before and she overheard me complaining to Scott about how unfair it was that I had such a huge crush on you. She told me to go for it and then when I went back to beg for your number and date ideas that would knock your socks off she told me how much you used to love this carnival. That’s when the whole food-poison-Greenburg plan came into motion.”

“I guess that would explain why Laur was rooting for you instead of threatening you,” Derek mused quietly. Really, he couldn’t believe how utterly ridiculous the situation was. He gave a little laugh, shaking his head and looked up at the clouded sky. He opened his mouth to say as much only to have a big fat rain drop hit him square in the eye. Stiles laughed as he swore and he retaliated with a prod to the ribs. Another drop came down on his ear, then another, and another. Derek grabbed Stiles’ hand and started dragging him toward the parking lot.

“C’mon Casanova, let’s head out before it really starts coming down.”

Well if that wasn’t an indication for the heavens to open up or anything. Shrieks of patrons and children started rising up around them as the rain started pouring down, the packed dirt ground quickly turning to mud. Derek’s laughter was lost not in the thunder, but in Stiles’ stomach as the boy tackled him down and wrapped the lapels of his jacket over his head and shoulders.

“Don’t worry, Derek, I’ve got you! You’re precious duck butt is safe from this mean old rain!” He exclaimed at the top of his voice and, really, it wasn’t all that loud around them. Derek went with the motion as Stiles tried to gallantly lead them toward the exit, but only for a few steps. The squawk that Stiles let out was well worth the terrible cliché cheese when Derek hefted him up into a fireman’s carry over one shoulder, the giant dinosaur under his other arm. Stiles laughed and laughed and still held his jacket over his head as a truly rotten umbrella.

“This doesn’t mean our date is over, does it?” Stiles asked, more at his butt than anything.

“What else did you have in mind? I’ve got a midnight curfew.”

“Wanna park at the edge of the Preserve and make out until one of my dad’s deputy’s catches us?”

Derek smirked and carried Stiles all the way to the Jeep.

 

 

 

(Turns out the Sheriff himself was on duty that evening with his thinly veiled threats and comments about “first impressions.”)

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Select events in Stiles' POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS SO BAD I'M SO SORRY BUT I COULDN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT
> 
> mostly dialogue 
> 
> so dumb  
> THIS IS SO DUMB
> 
> SooOOoooOo DdumB

 I.

 

“I _get it_ , Stiles.”

“That fucking V-neck, though, Scott. Why does it have to be the V-neck. Does he hate me? Does the world?”

Scott let his head loll back as he rolled his eyes at his best friend’s antics. Stiles slumped down further into desk chair, twiddling his pencil over their worksheet rather than writing down an answer. Group work. _Awesome_ (no really, group work with Scotty is the best).

“The world doesn’t hate you,” Scott placated. “And neither does Derek. He probably doesn’t even know how much you like him.”

There was a horrible screeching noise just loud enough to hear over the dull roar of the classroom. Stiles looked up to see Laura pushing her entire desk backwards until she was level with them, menacing eyebrow raised and glare focused laser sharp on Stiles. He swallowed hard. Laura was chill enough, funny and cute (and kinda scary) but fiercely protective of her twin. Stiles never understood it because Derek looked like he could _easily_ take care of himself- not that anybody bothered him anymore.

“You talkin’ about my brother?”

“No,” Stiles insisted at the same time Scott said, “Yes.” He shot his friend a dirty look. Laura’s gaze turned vindictive.

“You got a crush on my brother, Stilinski?”

“No!” Stiles all but shouted as Scott said, “Yes.”

“Dude, not cool!” He grumbled, trying to sink down and become one with his desk. Laura didn’t look any less murderous, but something softened around her eyes, like curiosity.

“You think he looks good in that shirt?”

This was a test, he knew it, but still he spat out, “He looks good in everything,” and immediately regretted it. Laura scooted her desk in closer in one smooth move, pushed it right against Stiles’ and leaned into his space.

“Yea, he sure is good looking now, huh?” She sneered. Stiles snorted before she could get any more threatening.

“Now?” He scoffed. That seemed to through her off a bit, caused her to reel back marginally in surprise and wait with an expectant expression.

“You mean after his bulk up?” Scott asked. At Laura’s small nod, Scott snorted, too. “Nah, man Stiles has had the biggest crush on Derek since eighth grade.”

“You are the _worst best friend in the history of forever_ ,” Stiles hissed. God could this get any more humiliating? It was hard enough to look Derek in the eye after that one gym-class-that-will-never-be-spoken-of-again. As if it hadn’t been already blatantly obvious that he’d had this dumb crush forever, now Derek would know _for sure_ and he’d probably try to let Stiles down gently and it would just be horrible and _ugh_. “Worst, worst, worst.” He tried to hide his face in their worksheet that was never going to be finished.

“Hey, no, don’t be like that, Stilinski.” Laura tapped him in the back of her head with her knuckles. “It’s my sisterly duty to look out for my baby bro. I had to make sure your intentions were pure…. They _are_ pure, right?”

“Considering he fell for Derek during his cello performance of our eighth grade graduation, I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Scott informed. As Laura nodded, trying to hold back a mocking smile, Stiles felt as if his face was going to melt off from pure humiliation.

“Can we drop this now? Yea, I’ve got a crush on Derek. Big reveal. Moving on-”

“Oooh no you don’t.” Laura waved her finger at him. “Why didn’t you ever ask him out?”

“Because I’m pretty sure the bitter feeling of rejection hurts _way_ more than not knowing, no matter what anyone says. And then sophomore year everyone _else_ started asking him out and he _always_ said no and I don’t even know if he _likes guys_. Why would I put myself through that when I can just imagine our fake children and be done with it?”

For some reason, Laura found all of this _hilarious_ , laughing so loudly some of the other students were starting to stare. Humiliation didn’t even begin to cover what Stiles was feeling. He was _this_ close to just walking out of the classroom and hiding in the bathroom for the rest of the day.

But then Laura, through her tears of laughter, said, “God, you two deserve each other. The guy who never asks anyone out who no one would turn down and the guy who everyone asks out and who never says yes.”

“A match made in heaven,” Scott agreed and Laura snickered at him. Yea, sure, laugh it up assholes. Not like it’s his _heart_ on the line here.

“Right, well, as enjoyable as this conversation is, we’ve only got five minutes left of class to finish this worksheet, so,” he waved his hand from Laura back to her group, “Get.”

“Don’t be like that, Stilinski,” she pleaded. “I’m not laughing to make fun of you; I’m laughing because this is actually hilarious.” She leaned over one last time to put her hand on his, effectively stopping his fidgeting. “And I can guarantee that if you ask him out during our next break, he’ll say yes.”

Stiles watched Laura push her desk back, heart in his throat at the unimaginable possibility that she could be telling the truth.

 

 

 

II.

 

“Hey so, do you wanna go out sometime?”

“Do you wanna go out?”

“Do you wanna date me?”

“Do you want to go on a date with me?”

“Do you want to hit me over the head with that book, please? Oh my god.”

“I love you, please don’t kill me.”

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

“Hey so I don’t know if you knew this but I’ve been in love with you since I was fourteen, do you want to go on a date? With me?”

“Marry me.”

Stiles kept muttering under his breath as he shoved his way through the crowded hall. Derek had the last lunch period on Mondays and Wednesdays and always ate it in room 210 while he waited for AP History to start ( _don’t_ ask how or why Stiles knew that, all of his knowledge about Derek had been carefully cultivated over time) and if he didn’t go ask him out now, he’d lose his nerve. It’s just… what if Laura was _wrong_? What if he had pissed her off somehow and this was how she got back at him? By making getting his worst crush to turn him down?

But what if she was _right_.

He burst into the classroom, walked right up and braced himself on the desk of a _very_ surprised looking Derek.

_“Go out with me_!” His words rushed out of him before he could stamp down his pounding heart and terror.

 

 

III.

 

 Stiles skidded into his last class barely before the late bell and slipped clumsily into the empty seat next to Laura. If her growing smile was anything to go by, his elation about the last ten minutes was clearly showing on his face.

“You’re a saint and I love you and I need your brother’s number.”

She raised her brow at him. “I thought you already asked him out.”

“I did, but I don’t have his number and I’m not about to get your address from _you_ and show up like a crazy person to pick him up on Friday.”

“And texting him when he didn’t give you his number _isn’t_ crazy?” He stared for a moment, unable to answer. She steamrolled on as she scribbled seven numbers on a piece of paper and ripped it out of her notebook. “Friday, huh? Where ya gonna take him?”

That was… a very good question. “Well I, uh, haven’t actually gotten past our imaginary children, yet so… I don’t know. Shit, I don’t know. He deserves way better than dinner and a movie. Ugh.” He dropped his head to his desk and Laura pet his hair. She was surprisingly sincere in her suggestion of the carnival, as if she wasn’t taking great joy in his anxiety.

 

 

IV.

 

“Scott! _Scotty!_ OH MY GOD!” Stiles tackled his best friend until they both went careening into the side of the Jeep. Scott, best friend that he was, didn’t even need to ask the reason and just started hugging back and jumping and it was all very emotional. There might have even been a tear.

“You did it?”

“I did it!”

When they pulled away, Allison and Lydia were there with bemused looks. Stiles snatched up Lydia in a hug- or, well, he went to and was stopped by a hand on his chest but that doesn’t matter. “Lydia, I promise I love you but I’ve got a date with Derek this weekend.”

“I’m completely shocked,” she said in a tone that suggested she really wasn’t. Whatever. Stiles don’t care.

At the sound of Laura’s unmistakable laugh, Stiles peaked over Scott’s shoulder to see the twins smiling. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from Derek's face, even as he ducked his head and grinned wider.

 

 

V.

 

“I’m going to be a social pariah, dad. I can’t believe you actually did that.” The Sheriff, walked right passed where Stiles had been waiting for him on the front steps. “What did you say to him? Did you make him sit in the back like a criminal? Did his mom see you drop him off? You _know_ she’s never going to let me see him again if she thinks I got him arrested.” He scrambled to follow his dad inside. “He hasn’t answered any of my texts, either! Did you actually arrest him? Did you _kill_ him? Did you threaten him so badly he never wants to see me again?!”

“Jeez, Stiles will you-” The Sheriff barely had his gun in the safe at the end of Stiles’ tirade. “All I did was give your boyfriend a ride home, will you get off my back?”

Stiles didn’t blush at the word boyfriend, his face was just read from oxygen deprivation from talking too much. Totally. “But why hasn’t he _texted_ me.”

“Maybe because I told him not to until,” the Sheriff looked at his watch, “About forty-five seconds from right now.”

“Whu- why on earth would you do that?!” he followed his dad into the kitchen, right on his heels, all the way to the fridge. The Sheriff took his sweet time getting out a glass and the milk and pouring himself a drink- which he enjoyed in a few slooow gulps. He had a face, his _I’m totally a hilarious parent_ face that usually meant horrible embarrassment for Stiles. He had _words_ for his father, words he had every intention of ranting, when his phone pinged in his pocket. He was so eager to pull it out that he nearly dropped it before he opened the text.

_From: Derek  
Sorry, sorry, your dad made me promise not to answer you as your punishment for us getting caught_

Stiles shot his dad a dirty look, but his phone pinged again.

_From: Derek  
He dropped me off a block away so I’m not in trouble or anything so_

_From: Derek  
Haha I guess_

_From: Stiles  
You’re hilarious. _

_From: Derek  
I’m aware_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I didn't get anyone's hopes up because WOW SORRY

**Author's Note:**

> i need some validation in my life


End file.
